


The Better Than Good Stuff

by ThreeWhiskeyLunch



Series: Bounty Hunter Blues [3]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Getting attached, M/M, Morning Sex, Spooning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 16:51:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6247912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeWhiskeyLunch/pseuds/ThreeWhiskeyLunch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is getting attached a good thing? or a bad thing? Voz can't decide. And maybe it's too late anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Better Than Good Stuff

Torian has names for all the things we kill on Belsavis, reciting them like a prayerful litany. Or a checklist. But if that’s what makes him happy, then that’s what makes him happy. Didn’t really expect to like the kid as much as I do. Didn’t really expect to find anyone out there that I can take for more than five minutes, much less wake up next to. But here he is, all snug under my blankets, looking about as innocent as he’d ever be able to given those Mandalorian ritual scars on his face, and his penchant for blood and the hunt.  
  
Mako had done her best to warn me when he came on board how he looked at me, but I gave her about as much mind as that warning deserved. And it wasn’t too long before he showed up at the door to my cabin, all hungry fingers and eager mouth. It had been far too easy to say ‘yes’ and hope he didn’t kill me in my sleep later.  
  
So far so good.  
  
I’ve been taking him everywhere with me since he’s come on board. Mako is immersed in her own research, Gault in his black market schemes. And that Jawa we’d picked up has the engine running smoother than it ever has. Torian is more suited for helping me bash in skulls and I love to give his Mandalorian mouth a chance to run wild, screaming at the top of his lungs as he dives down on a varactyl, blood dripping from his fingers.  
  
It’s enough to make me push him up against a tree.  
  
Which I do.  
  
Several times.  
  
Finding him already hard when I pull off his codpiece is just icing on the cake. Jerking each other off in the middle of a volcanic jungle? Yeah. What’s the stuff that’s put on icing? Whatever that is is what this is.  
  
And then going back to the ship, exhausted and sweaty enough to cause Mako to point at the showers, finding a willing body already there with soapy hands and hot mouth, falling into my bed with that willing body curled up against me. All that. What’s the stuff that’s put on top of all the other good stuff? I’ve never had it before. I don’t have words for it. Only that it’s good. Better than good. It’s great and I’m afraid of getting used to it.  
  
“Hey, Voz.”  
  
“Hm.” It’s morning and he’s warm, his back to me, my arm over his waist. My mouth is in his hair, smelling the scent of his soap. Spooning. So this is spooning. Another thing I could used to. Godsdamnit.  
  
“When we were on Hoth, did you think about staying?” He’d seen as well as I how many of my people were there. Frozen planets were made for Chiss. Or Chiss were made for frozen planets maybe. Stepping out onto hard packed snow had been like coming home. It had been hard to leave, but stay? It hadn’t crossed my mind.  
  
I pull him tighter to me, make sure he can feel my morning-hard cock along the crack of his ass. “Naw.” I reach down between his legs, find him hard as well. “Might get a vacation home there some day though.” I give his cock a gentle squeeze.  
  
His hand comes around to grab my ass, tugging me to him. “Lotsa things to hunt,” he says. His hips roll. “Those wampas—” I bite down on his shoulder and he shudders, breath hitching in his throat, “—sonofa Hutt, Voz!—” but then he continues, “—those were hard to take down.”  
  
I’ve been learning from experience he can go on like this. Time to shut him up. I start to push him over to his stomach, but he resists. “No.” He rolls instead onto his back, stretching his legs wide. “Like this. I want to see you.” His voice is husky and low, enticing me to him like a charm elixir.  
  
Battle scars cover his body and I trace over them, my big blue hand a strange contrast to his light skin. Cool air from the room makes his nipples peak, hardened pebbles I have to taste. But he’s eager and I’m hard and at that moment neither of us in the mood for much foreplay. I slick myself quickly and him as well—I’m too big to not and no way in hell am I about to hurt him. He twists and gasps and says, “Hurry. Now.”  
  
I laugh at that. “You wanna do it?”  
  
So he pushes me over—for being smaller than me, he’s all tight muscle and well-timed strength—with a “Yes” so full of desperate want that I lay back and let him.  
  
And when he kisses me later, his cum sticky between us and my softening cock slipping from him, well, I let him do that too.  
  
Maybe I kiss him back.


End file.
